Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 45

The kiss broke, and Lu Hanzhang gazed at Chu Muyun, gently touching the corner of his eye.

“Have you been crying?”

His eyes remained moist, soft, and flushed.

“Hmph, have you forgotten how rough you were last night?” Chu Muyun retorted. “I cried and begged for mercy, but you didn’t care.”

“Right, my fault.”

Lu Hanzhang kissed him again and pulled him into his arms. Suddenly, he said, “I just had a strange dream.”

“What was it about?” Chu Muyun’s heart leaped. If it were just a trivial dream, Lu Hanzhang wouldn’t have mentioned it.

“I dreamed of you… and of me. I was dying, coughing terribly, like I had a lung disease.” Lu Hanzhang’s voice was calm, but his grip tightened. “Is that why you were so insistent I see a doctor when I started coughing?”

But there was more. Lu Hanzhang didn’t voice the rest of his dream: he had seen himself kneeling before a subordinate, delivering what sounded like final instructions. He entrusted someone very important to him to this subordinate, making arrangements for their life after his death.

Could that person have been Chu Muyun?

“Mmm…” Chu Muyun buried his face in Lu Hanzhang’s chest, nuzzling against him like a small animal. “You remembered something else, didn’t you? I know it might just be a cold, but I’m so scared… scared you’ll…”

“Don’t be afraid,” Lu Hanzhang said softly. “I’ll take good care of myself and never let you worry like that again.”

He asked, “After I died… what happened to you?”

Chu Muyun realized Lu Hanzhang had only recalled fragmented memories, not their identities or the full story. Otherwise, his own fate would be plain to see in the historical records.

“I caught the same illness as you,” Chu Muyun murmured, nestled in his Great King’s arms. “But my body wasn’t as strong as yours. I died quickly.”

As he spoke, an image flashed through his mind: a cloth doll he had personally sewn, its belly stuffed with a lock of the Great King’s hair. He had cherished it, sleeping with it every night and never letting it out of his sight. Even after falling ill, he had refused all medicine.

In truth, he had hoped his monarch would take him along. Only after the Great King’s death did he fully realize that the only person who had ever truly valued and protected him was gone.

Above him, Lu Hanzhang fell silent for a moment, then sighed softly and gently stroked his hair.

The two remained in a quiet embrace on the bed for a while longer before finally getting up.

After breakfast, President Lu went to work as usual, and Chu Muyun insisted on accompanying him. They entered the President’s office together.

Lu Hanzhang sat at his desk and began working, occasionally glancing at his phone.

It was the history professor he had added recently, who had replied to his messages.

The historical records state that Emperor Wu of Yu died of pulmonary tuberculosis, though this remains a subject of debate.

While pulmonary tuberculosis is curable in modern times, in ancient times it was considered an incurable disease, resistant to all medical treatment.

In his youth, Emperor Wu fought against the Han and suffered a lung injury from a stray arrow. His lungs were never quite the same afterward, and when he contracted tuberculosis, he succumbed after only half a year of illness.

There are two theories regarding Consort Chu’s death. One suggests he died of a broken heart from grief over the Martial Emperor’s passing, while the other claims he contracted tuberculosis while visiting him.

Historians currently favor the latter theory. Consort Chu also exhibited severe coughing and hemoptysis, typical symptoms of pulmonary tuberculosis.

Lu Hanzhang typed another question: [How was Consort Chu buried?]

The professor replied quickly: [At the time, the court was divided into two factions. One faction, led by Prime Minister Zheng, demanded that the “Demon Consort” who had bewitched the Emperor be publicly flogged and his corpse displayed as a warning. The other faction, led by Consort Chu’s father, Chu Shangxiao, claimed he had died of an infectious disease and insisted his body be cremated. Considering the ancient belief in “peace in the earth,” the cremation faction’s motives were likely malicious.]

[Emperor Yu Huai, newly ascended to the throne, hesitated amidst the clamorous disputes of his ministers, unable to make a decisive move. Then, Han Jingchuan, the Great General Who Guards the Nation, stepped forward. He produced a handwritten edict left by the Martial Emperor before his death, forcefully demanding that Consort Chu be buried alongside the late emperor.]

[Ultimately, the emperor and his consort were interred in the same tomb, now known as the Chang’an Mausoleum. Han Jingchuan, however, faced ostracism from the court and suspicion from Emperor Yu Huai. Repeatedly demoted, he never regained imperial favor throughout his lifelong career.]

Lu Hanzhang stared blankly at the lines of text scrolling across the screen, lost in thought.

He would never have believed that his fate could be intertwined with someone from over a thousand years ago. It seemed too fantastical, he would rather attribute it to a relapse of his mental illness, manifesting as delusional symptoms.

Yet the memories surfacing in his mind were too vivid, too real. When he grew close to Chu Muyun, when he tasted dishes personally prepared by him, his body reacted with overwhelming intensity.

It had to be true. Chu Muyun had once been his Beloved Consort.

The pain of that ancient era, which he had never personally experienced, now belatedly settled in his heart.

He died, and my Beloved Consort did not fare well.

Chu Muyun had already received the script for his new drama—the historical costume drama his manager, Jin Ming, had previously hinted at, telling him to keep his schedule open for it.

He followed Lu Hanzhang to the Lu Group Headquarters. While Lu Hanzhang worked, Chu Muyun sat nearby, engrossed in the script. Before filming began, he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his Great King.

This was a wuxia drama adapted from a danmei novel. The lead actors had been cast, and the production team had just created a WeChat group, adding all the cast members.

Chu Muyun stared at the account labeled “Han Jin” in the group, momentarily stunned.

He was playing the male lead’s love interest, and this Han Jin was the actor cast as the male lead. He seemed to be… Han Jingchuan, the Young General who had been his childhood friend a thousand years ago.

Chu Muyun searched for Han Jin on Baidu, zoomed in on the photos with two fingers, and scrutinized them carefully. He then stole a discreet glance at Lu Hanzhang, who was working nearby, to avoid triggering the Great King’s jealousy.

It really did look like him.

Chu Muyun had seen Han Jin on television before and always thought there was a resemblance, but he couldn’t be certain. Camera angles could distort faces slightly, and stage makeup made it difficult to confirm. He needed to see him in person to be sure.

Chu Muyun had been an actor for five years, yet he had never had the opportunity to work on the same set as Han Jin. This was mainly because Chu Muyun was relatively unknown, while Han Jin had thrived in the entertainment industry and was now a top-tier male star. He had debuted as an action star, specializing in fight scenes and refusing to use stunt doubles.

If Han Jin truly was Han Jingchuan from a thousand years ago, it meant that in this era of peace and prosperity, he no longer needed to fight on the battlefield and could instead pursue acting—which suited him well. War was dangerous, even the valiant Great King had suffered grievous wounds.

Even at his lowest point, Chu Muyun had never considered revealing their past connection to Han Jin. They had once been close friends. When Chu Muyun clashed with his arch-rival, Marquis Hou, Han Jin would always take his side. But one day, for reasons unknown, Han Jin suddenly began avoiding him.

The Han Family’s Old General, a rigid traditionalist, would glare at Chu Muyun whenever they met. Chu Muyun suspected the Old General had warned Han Jingchuan about him, likely labeling him a wastrel and urging him to distance himself. That was probably why Han Jingchuan had started avoiding him.

Later, Chu Muyun entered the palace as a male consort, and their paths never crossed again. Even if they wanted to reminisce, there wasn’t much shared history left to discuss.

Besides, Han Jin might actually remember his past life. If Chu Muyun approached him rashly, Han Jin would probably think he was crazy.

In the crew’s WeChat group, Chu Muyun posted, [Hi everyone, nice to meet you all! Looking forward to a great collaboration.]

A string of replies followed, and Han Jin responded too, tagging Chu Muyun.

Han Jin: [Looking forward to working with you, @Chu Muyun.]

A few seconds later, Chu Muyun received a friend request from Han Jin.

Why is he adding me? Does this guy make a habit of adding all the actors to his WeChat whenever he joins a new production?

Chu Muyun casually accepted the request.

A message popped up.

Han Jin: [Hello.]

Chu Muyun: [Hello.]

After waiting a while and seeing no further activity, Chu Muyun assumed Han Jin had no intention of continuing the conversation beyond the initial greeting and closed WeChat.

He glanced at Lu Hanzhang. Hmph, Great King, why are you slacking off?

Lu Hanzhang was also staring intently at his phone. Chu Muyun stole a peek at the screen—it looked like a WeChat interface.

Who’s he chatting with?

Curiosity piqued, Chu Muyun leaned closer, then closer still, craning his neck to try and sneak a peek. But before he could see anything, Lu Hanzhang noticed him. He pressed down on Chu Muyun’s shoulders, forcing him back into his chair and straightening his posture, “What are you doing?”

“Who are you chatting with? Are you raising another sparrow?”

“…No. It’s work-related.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want some dessert? I’ll have my assistant get some.”

“Yes! Eat, eat, eat!”

Blessed with a metabolism that defied weight gain, Chu Muyun indulged whenever he pleased.

First, a hazelnut Napoleon. Then, a matcha mousse. And a box of original mochi. He’d feed them mouth-to-mouth to the Great King, then flirt their way to the bedroom. Hehe.

Just as he was daydreaming, Lu Hanzhang glanced at him and said, “No romantic gestures during work hours. I’ve already had Human Resources add that to the policy.”

What?! Chu Muyun huffed indignantly, “Are you made of wood? You’re so heartless!”

The big block of wood ignored him, clicking open his email to resume working.

Chu Muyun quickly grabbed his wrist and shook it. When Lu Hanzhang finally looked at him, Chu Muyun pressed a tiny remote into his hand.

“Just flip the switch,” Chu Muyun said, his eyes misting over. “This isn’t a romantic gesture. It’s… it’s you toying with me, okay?”

Lu Hanzhang said nothing, but his thumb slid the tiny switch on the remote all the way to the end.

“Ugh…” Chu Muyun’s eyes instantly reddened at the corners. He curled up, his voice trembling uncontrollably. “W-what are you doing?! You just… haah… went straight to the highest setting…”

“Really? I didn’t realize this was the highest setting,” Lu Hanzhang said, flicking the dial back to the lowest.

“Hmph, no one believes that,” Chu Muyun retorted, pressing a hand to his stomach. Just as he regained his composure, he tried to kick Lu Hanzhang’s foot, but his leg lacked any strength. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

Earlier, while Lu Hanzhang focused on his work, Chu Muyun’s cheeks had flushed crimson. He had started by watching him from his chair, then leaned over the desk, his legs trembling beneath the surface. Occasionally, he couldn’t suppress a soft, breathy sigh, heavy with springlike warmth, escaping his tender lips.

After a long while, Lu Hanzhang finally paused his work, picked up his cup, and took a sip of water, glancing at Chu Muyun. His gaze was clear and his voice indifferent, but hidden beneath the desk, where Chu Muyun couldn’t see, he had already been aroused for quite some time.

“Ten minutes until quitting time.”

“Oh,” Chu Muyun mumbled. He had endured this long, he could manage ten more minutes.

The next moment, he saw Lu Hanzhang pick up the neglected remote control, which he had almost forgotten, and flick the dial all the way to the highest setting.

“???”

Ugh…

He’s so mean! The Great King is so mean!

He just loves to bully me!

I’m going to die… he’s going to break me…

By the time Lu Hanzhang turned off the remote and carried Chu Muyun to the lounge area near the door, Chu Muyun was already in a daze.

Earlier, Chu Muyun had slumped against the headboard like a broken doll. Lu Hanzhang had helped him remove the toy, his slender fingers glistening with moisture.

“You’re bullying me again,” Chu Muyun whimpered, tears clinging to his eyelashes.

“But Beloved Consort enjoys playing, doesn’t he? I’m just keeping you company,” Lu Hanzhang murmured, his voice deep and amused. He wiped the toy’s moisture across Chu Muyun’s still-damp abdomen, tossed it aside, wrapped his arms around Chu Muyun’s waist, and kissed him.

“If you don’t want me to bully you, should I stop?”

“No…” Chu Muyun’s lips parted instinctively.

Soon, the bedroom filled with sounds that made one’s face flush with heat.